When There Isn't Any Knotting
by Mech Anon
Summary: A series of oneshots looking at the minor characters and aspects of the omegaverse.
1. Just Another Day at the Office

Love that dare not speak its name they used to call it. Normally we, the Met, the poor buggers in charge of keeping you lot safe, meet it like any other relationship; when it goes wrong and this was a pretty impressively wrong to go.

The victim, a female omega who must have been pretty before the the carnage, lay in a barely coagulated pool of blood. The options for killers dazedly allowing themselves to be processed. Option 1: the victim's omega wife, covered in blood, visibly injured and crying piteously. Option 2: the victim's alpha boss, also covered in blood, no visible injuries or emotional outbursts.

Pulling himself out of his contemplations Lestrade turned to Sally, "Go with them back to the station." She looked up at him eyes dark with self-hatred. He could almost hear her internal monologue before she wiped her face clean and blank as a doll's. She nodded and made her way carefully across to the door, Anderson's eyes following her path.

"Anderson." Lestrade said half warning half asking if there was anything more to the scene than it seemed.

"Bloody." Anderson muttered. Then continued less snarkily, "There's enough blood to make knowing who bled where difficult. When the body gets cleaned up and we know what was pre and post mortem it will be easier to isolate."

"Right. Let's hope one of them confesses." Lestrade hated murders like this. The only thing you could be certain of was a headache.

The sound of the wife's wailing echoed through the grizzly scene. Sighing Lestrade scrubbed his face.

* * *

"It's not right."

The wife, Mary Radcliffe, was staring motionless at the curtains of her hospital cubical when Sally had left after a fruitless half hour but the boss, Jake Morgan, was another story. From the moment she had walked into the interview room he had been left to cool his heels in he had been eagerly talking at her.

"It's different for alphas." she idly wondered if Susan Radcliffe had know how much her boss objected to her relationship. "Just shagging. Getting rid of pent up urges. Not like omegas," he tried to present it as if it was logical and reasonable. "They're made to be breed."

Typical alpha sentiment, something Sally had heard a thousand times. Even thought a few times herself. "Tell me about Susan." she said watching his face.

"She's beautifully omega." his face was joyous at the thought of her and his tone fanatical. "Soft, gentle and sweet. As her heat gets closer she always smells so ripe and ready. Her skin begins to glow." he took a deep inhale through his nose and then blinked coming back to himself. "She's a lovely girl. A great employee, always courteous to the customers and friendly with her colleagues. If she wasn't an omega she could be a manager."

Sally noted the present tense and locked away the stab of pointless anger at the dead end position omegas always ended up. It never matters how good you are at your job omegas are made for breeding. _Be a good omega. Take my knot omega._ "What about Mary?"

"She led Sue astray. Before that bitch Sue was a good little omega," he is vicious in his tone, his hands tight on the table, face white with anger. "looking for an alpha or beta to bond her and breed her. Then Mary Radcliffe started sniffing around. What kind of omega wants to bed another omega? Thinks their nub is enough to satisfy an omega? Perverts a good omega to their way of thinking?"

Sally interrupted, "What happened today?" she did not need to hear his take on megamega partnerships. It was not anything new, the tired old spiel that had been reeled out by Conservatives and religious groups alike when civil partnerships were still new.

"Sue went into heat at work." Morgan shrugged nice guy persona firmly in place. "She was too far gone to drive to I offered her a lift. She took me up on the offer and I took her back to her block and helped her up the stairs."

"Offered to help out?" Sally asked guilelessly.

"Sue's married, bonded, I wouldn't knot her without a completed divorce.


	2. Awkwardly Seeking

Like all females Molly had known her whole life that she was either a beta or alpha. Sometimes as a child she had felt sorry for her male counterparts not knowing until they hit puberty. When she found out she was a beta it had been a relief. Something she had wanted too much to hope for. Comfortable, bland, average. One of the 45% of the human race to be beta. A member of the second common gender. A chance to love not mate in a frenzy of hormones and she had been content with her beta status until she met Sherlock Holmes.

From the moment she had known her gender Molly had planned her comfortable beta life, from before she had known really. When she was ready she would marry a nice beta man with compatible interests and they would have a quiet amicable marriage with maybe two children. Nothing like her alpha and omega mothers' tumultuous affair.

Then Sherlock Holmes walked into her mortuary and never before had Molly Hooper wanted to be interesting. He smelt, he looked, he sounded amazing. He paid no attention to bland boring beta Molly Hooper. And for two years she had carried a torch for him held aloft by his lack of interest anyone else. Until the day he brought John Watson with him.

She had thought Sherlock unaware of normal courting behaviour until she saw him with John. A more stereotypical example of stating intentions she had never seen. Scents were marked, tails dogged, attention insisted upon and interlopers hounded away. In short, Sherlock Holmes was perfectly capable of sexual interest and wanted John Watson. Another tumultuous alpha-omega couple she thought bitterly.


	3. Omega

To be an omega is to carry a child. To be a female omega, a mother-in-waiting, a mother-to-be, a mother. A mother the only allowable desire from birth.

Omega. A death knell. Be a good omega. Take my knot, omega. Only good for breeding, omega. Be fruitful and multiply.

The sickening, itching desperation of heat. The betrayal of your body. I knew you in the womb. The full knot. The need. Only good for breeding, omega.

The stares. The assumptions. The placards. A death knell. Be a good omega.

Please. Why? This isn't me.

Be a good omega. Be fruitful and multiply.

Please.

Take my knot, omega. I knew you in the womb.

Why?

Only good for breeding. It is a sign of the authority over you.

This isn't me.


	4. The Loving Man

"You think it's simple when you start out. That the size of your knot and the flavour of your hormones are less important than love. Then before you know it you're 6 years down the line and your bedroom smells of alpha" The crowded London pub at happy hour doesn't seem the right place to be saying this and she isn't the right person to be telling nor is he the right person to be telling her but they're there. He needs to say it and she needs to hear it. So he takes a gulp of his beer and continues, "but you love her so you don't do anything until you walk in and she's still mid rut with her alpha.

"And she's happy, really happy, like you haven't seen her in years with him but pride gets in the way and you don't say anything until you're… you have a…" he trails of absently finishing his beer as he tries to find the right word. "A something, a messy fucked up something with your colleague." He finishes the sentence bitterly.

"Sitting in an abortion clinic waiting for her to have your baby sucked out you say something." he tries to surreptitiously wipe his eyes. "Trying for 6 years and it happens with her. What she wanted least from me." His voice breaks and the sound of people laughing rushes over his head. "Then our boss is scouting her out and god knows he's better for her than me.

"It never works, Molly." he stands unsteadily. "Want another?" he asks tilting the empty glass at her.

Blinking she turns to face him, "Uh, yeah sure." Looking at his face she can see herself reflected. "We're not like them are we?"


End file.
